


Heavy Lungs

by Semi_problematic



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood and Violence, Force Choking, Kidnapping, M/M, Obsessive Behavior, Stalking, Tied-Up Dean Winchester, Unhealthy Sam, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 10:07:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12981741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Semi_problematic/pseuds/Semi_problematic
Summary: Sam Wesson couldn't have done this, though. He was a big guy, but Dean had heard the stories of Sam crying over killing a bug and he had overheard Sam asking costumers about their pets. Sam was normal, more normal than Dean. He arrived fifteen minutes early every day then left at seven in the evening. He never got in arguments and his background check came up clean. The kid had never even had a parking ticket. He wouldn't be able to pull off a kidnapping. Right?





	Heavy Lungs

The room was dark. No. It was the cloth covering his eyes. Dean could feel it wrapped around his head, tight. Where was he then? Wherever it was it was warm. The air was thick and heavy. Was he outside? No. He would feel wind. Maybe he was in a building of some sort. Why, though? 

The last thing Dean could remember was packing up his briefcase and leaving his office. He could remember walking down the hall of offices, waving goodbye to his coworkers and he could remember climbing on the elevator. Sam Wesson had been in there. Dean had talked to him once or twice at meetings and he had to call him in whenever he messed up a document but that was it. He remembered awkwardly talking to him and how uncomfortable he felt with Sam staring at him. They had walked into the parking lot and Sam laughed about how they parked near each other. Then that was it, it was the last thing he remembered.

Sam Wesson couldn't have done this, though. He was a big guy, but Dean had heard the stories of Sam crying over killing a bug and he had overheard Sam asking costumers about their pets. Sam was normal, more normal than Dean. He arrived fifteen minutes early every day then left at seven in the evening. He never got in arguments and his background check came up clean. The kid had never even had a parking ticket. He wouldn't be able to pull off a kidnapping. Right?

Dean could hear footsteps inching towards him with soft clicks. He couldn't stop himself from tensing up. Did this person want to hurt him? Or did they want his money and success? Maybe it was a wrong place and wrong time situation, where Dean was just the easiest target? These questions and more rushed through Deans mind hard enough to give him a headache. He did have a headache. Did they knock him out? With a hard blow to the head? Or with drugs? Both could explain the headache.

Dean took a deep breath and tried his best to calm his mind. He didn't have sight but he did have the rest of his senses. He needed to use them. Dean tried to push his arms and legs out, but they were stopped. It felt like rope but it could still possibly be tape. Either way he was tied down. Someone didn't want him getting away. He was in a chair, by the feel of the arm rests against his palms it felt like wood, old wood, too. Jagged edges were stabbing into him, but that was the least of his problems. The room smelled of dust and rot. It made his head spin and his stomach sick. 

The rust smell of blood filled Deans nose, slowly, and he refused to open is mouth in fear that the age old statement of "if you open your mouth you can taste it" would be true. He wasn't the only one. It gave him hope in a way. Multiple people disappearing draws attention. Dean froze for a second. Did anyone know he was missing? Were there cameras in the parking garage? What if no one notices? He lives alone and goes on vacations once a month. What if no one realizes it until Deans dead? 

Dean slammed his feet on the ground. It didn't creak underneath him like wood would. It had to be concrete. He slammed his feet down again and shifted his weight forward. The chair wobbled beneath him, the weak wood wearing down even more. He did it again. And again. His lip was bleeding from where his teeth had sunken in. He could taste it. 

"It's no use." The voice echoed in the room. That meant it had to be at least a little empty, if not completely. The man had stood there the entire time. Why didn't he try to stop Dean? Most likely, his captor thought his sad attempts at escaping were funny or maybe it was because he knew Dean wasn't getting out. At least not this soon. Possibly both. 

Dean froze. He was breathing heavy and he was sweating. Of course this place didn't have air conditioning. Why would it? Dean Smith was kidnapped and all he was worried about was air conditioning. Pathetic. Dean began to laugh. Within minutes of being here he was going mad. He wouldn't last. His mind was tearing itself apart and was racing a mile a minute. He was fucked. He could admit it.

"Why am I still blind folded?" Dean asked. He was trying to sound strong but his voice wavered. He didn't have confidence when he wasn't behind his desk.

"How did you know you were blind folded?" The voice sounded interested to say the least. Sounds of footsteps sounded throughout the room. The kidnapper was circling him, the way a hunter circles its prey. Dean was shaking.

"I could feel the cloth tied around my head." Dean stated. His nails were digging into the uneven wooden armrests. He was going to get splinters from it, but it was the only way he could keep himself partially calm.

"Smart one." The man chuckled and stepped closer to Dean. His body ached from being tense but he couldn't help but freeze up even more. He didn't know this man or what he was capable of and now he was tied down and helpless. Dean was terrified. "Most people panic and think I made them go blind." His warm hands burned holes in Deans shoulders. "But you, Dean, you kept your head about you.. then again, you have a history of doing that." His hands were off of him in seconds. Dean thanked any god listening for it.

"How do you know me?" Dean jerked around in the restraints, his head tilting each and every way in an attempt to face his kidnapper. "Have you been stalking me?"

The man laughed this time. Dean decided right then and there that when he gets free he will rip his vocal cords out. "I did, I thought I made it obvious. For months I've veen fascinated by you.. and you didn't care."

"Wh-" Dean gasped when a warm body settled in his lap. Arms wrapped around his neck and breath ghosted across his cheeks.

"I thought it was time to make you notice." Lips touched his neck. "I love you.. but you don't care. You only care about you.. but thats okay." Lips on his jaw, then tongue and teeth. He whined beneath the man. "I can teach you to love me.."

Dean jerked around but it was useless. The mans weight was crushing him into the chair. "Who are you?"

The man scoffed and for a moment Dean feared that he was in danger. "Of course you wouldn't know. You're too self centered." Fingers rubbed against the back of Deans neck then against his head. The cloth was loosened then fell from his eyes.

Deans eyes were blurry at first. He could make out shapes of a big room that seemed to be the basement of a building made out of cement and brick. Next, as Deans eyes began to focus he was met with dimples deeper than the ocean and wide doe eyes that looked sinister. A smile that was sharper than knives was the next thing he saw.

"Hello, Dean." His finger tips grazed across Deans jaw, then down his neck, before finally curling around his neck and squeezing.

Dean gasped, his eyes unable to tear away from the features of his face. "Sam."


End file.
